


The Orange Band of Confidence

by Ninja_Librarian



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Also Hunk and Lance meet for the first time, Angst wtih happy ending, Basically just a bunch of headcanons smooshed together, Friendship, Gen, Happy Birthday Hunk!, Hawaiian Hunk, He needs all the hugs, Hunk backstory, Hunk worries way too much, Little bit of angst, Nickname origin story, Past Character Death, Pre-Garrison, Pre-Season 1, Uses my OCs for Hunk's family, mother-son bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9308198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninja_Librarian/pseuds/Ninja_Librarian
Summary: He always drifted to his father's favorite spot on the island when he was upset. It's where he feels his Dad's presence the most, calming and reassuring. Helps him to think and sort out his problems. And now that he has a big choice to make, he wishes now more than ever that his father could actually be there to help him make the right decision.





	

“I knew I’d find you here.”

The young teenage boy lifted his chin from his knees and turned to look at his mother as she sat in the sand beside him, her long yellow and white skirt folding gently around her feet, revealing her bare toes, the chipped yellow paint still bright against her dark skin.

“How’d you know?” The boy asked, unconsciously burying his toes in the soft sand before looking back out at the ocean as the sun set, turning the water brilliant hues of red, orange and pink.

“This was your father’s favorite spot on the island.” His mother said, smiling wistfully as she watched the waves gently crash against the sand. “He’d come out here to think. To just be quiet and enjoy the sea breeze. I knew this would be your favorite place to do the same the day you were six and I found you sitting under this very tree, reading.” She chuckled and reached up to gently tug on the end of the fabric band he had wrapped around his head. “I almost gathered the whole town to search for you, you know. Then something told me to check here.”

“Sorry, Mom.” He said, smiling shyly up at her. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

She gently pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“I know you didn’t.” She said. “So. What’s bothering you, my son?”

The boy stiffened and gulped.

“What? Nothing’s bothering me, why would you think something’s bothering me?” He asked, trying to keep panic out of his voice and failing.

“Because you only come here when you’re upset.” His mother pointed out. “That day, when you were six? The anniversary of Dad’s death. I’ve noticed the pattern since then. When you have a bad day, you come here. When you got a B on your book report in fifth grade—the worst grade you have ever gotten—you came here straight after school. You get in an argument with your sisters or your friends or you just feel stressed, you come here.”

He didn’t respond, choosing instead to watch as the water became darker—purples and blues began to be dominate, the first stars starting to shine.

“I come here, too, when I’m upset. Or when I miss your father.” His mother said, conversationally. “He proposed to me here, you know? It was the first time he showed me this place. Said he knew he could share this spot with me, because he wanted to share the rest of his life with me. I feel close to him here. Do you?”

“A little bit.” The boy admitted. “I always come here wondering, ‘what would Dad say?’ or ‘what would Dad do?’ and it helps, I guess?” He swallowed again as his fingers reached up to grab the end of the orange band. “I just… I just wish I could actually talk to him, you know? Wish he was…”

His mother reached up and gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist, looking at him sadly as he turned to look at her, his dark brown eyes watery.

“You don’t… You don’t still think that it was your fault, right?” She said, voice calm but her own eyes beginning to water. “It’s not.”

“I had his lucky headband, though. I still do.” He argued. “He didn’t. I don’t know why I still wear it. I don’t deserve it. Hasn’t brought me that much luck, either.”

He moved his wrist out of his mother’s grip and reached back to undo the knot at the back of his head, but she stopped him, grabbing his wrists again, lowering his hands.

“Some may say that your father’s death was unlucky. But there was nothing that could have prevented it. Not even that headband.” She told him. “Yes, it may be what he claimed won him all those trophies and competitions, but I don’t think he really believed it was lucky. Everything your father had, he got it through hard work and dedication. This headband, it was only a piece that gave him the confidence to remember that, something he could always take with him out on his board. He gave it to you so that you would have the same confidence and courage.”

She reached up to gently cup his cheek, giving her son a smile.

“Now, come on. Tell your mother what’s got you so troubled today.”

He hesitated, then reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out an envelope. Even in the low light, his mother could see the logo in the corner and recognize it.

“The Galaxy Garrison?” She whispered, staring at the envelope in surprise.

“You know Mr. Hale, my robotics coach and science teacher? He recommended me to them.” The boy said, letting his mother take the envelope out of his hands. He frowned as he looked back at the dark water. “They want to accept me for the engineering program.”

“I’d say that this is a very good thing, but it’s obviously not, if it troubles you. Are you just not sure if you want to accept or not?” His mother asked.

“I… I don’t know, Mom. The Garrison is so competitive. I didn’t even apply. I thought there would be no way in a thousand years I’d get in. Now they’ve sent this letter and Mr. Hale really wants me to accept.” He explained.

“Do you want to be an engineer? An astronaut engineer?” His mother asked.

“I’ve been looking at engineering since I was seven.” The boy admitted. “You know how I like to build stuff.”

“Hmmm. I know I have a lot of appliances that have been taken apart and put back together over the years.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry.”

“Eh, can’t complain too much. Everything still works. Probably even better than before.” His mother said, smiling. “Do you just not want to be an engineer who works on spacecraft? You want to do something else?”

“I… Mom, I don’t know.” He admitted. “I mean, maybe? It’s just… I’m only fourteen. I don’t really know what I want to do, and to decide now… I don’t know.”

“And that’s okay.” His mother said. “Because you are fourteen. You shouldn’t have to know now. I know people who are my age and older who still don’t know what they really, really want to do with their lives. And that’s okay.”

They were quiet for a few moments, then the boy said in a low voice,

“Mom? Is it… Is it wrong that I want to go just because of the money?”

“Well, I imagine that engineering is a job that pays quite well, so—”

“No, I mean, now. For you and Kalea and Luana.”

His mother hesitated.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” She said, though she did understand. She knew her son was very, very smart. All three of her children were.

And sometimes, they knew more than she would like them to know.

The boy sighed, then said,

“Mom, I know that we’ve never been that well off. Financially. Even when we still had Dad’s income and the occasional bit of prize money he got from winning competitions. And it’s only getting harder now with Lea at University, even with all of her scholarships. If I went to the Garrison, it’s free high school and college education. Don’t have to pay for board or meal plans or anything. Not even airfare to get to the school. So, it’d be good. For you and Lulu and Lea if I went. Since Lea and I’d only be back for summer and winter break, that’s more money around the house for you and Lulu the rest of the year.”

His mother sighed and closed her eyes, shoulders slumping. She knew he was right, even if she didn’t want to admit it; there wasn’t enough money. She had enough to make ends meet, but just enough. She knew she had been blessed with children who inherited their father’s work ethic and her creativity. Where they had gotten their brains, she still wasn’t sure, but she saw all three combine in beautiful ways. In her eldest, a passion for the ocean and a dedication that got her a full-ride scholarship to the university of her choosing. In her youngest, a love for colors and mixing of old and new, teaching herself various skills.

And then in her middle child, her only son, she saw how his fingers worked almost effortlessly with large, bulky tools and tiny screws, gears and springs. How his eyes gleamed with pride as all the little pieces came together to form something bigger and functional. How he took the meager groceries that came in and figured out how to make the most out of every meal, proudly presenting his mother and sisters with dishes that looked straight out of the kitchen of one of the fancy resort hotels on some of the other islands. Her manager at the hotel she worked at even told her that her young son’s dishes tasted much better than those of the trained chefs from those other resorts, too.

She also knew that her son had taken on a lot of responsibility around the house lately, even before his older sister left for school. Making not only dinner, but getting up early to prepare breakfasts and pack lunches. Fixing whatever broke around the house, and taking on most of the chores. And he still maintained excellent grades and still somehow made time for an extracurricular activity.

She knew deep down that the Garrison would be a great choice for her son to make, for all the reasons he mentioned.

But…

“I think that if this is the only reason you would say yes to going, then you should say no and stay here.” His mother said. “We’ll make things work. We always do. But is the money the only reason you can think of to say ‘yes’?”

“Well… Again, getting a free education, a free high-quality education at the world’s most exclusive school, is a pretty good reason. And I can always go to other schools after eight years at the Garrison. I might not necessarily choose to work with the engine parts of the spacecraft and work on other stuff instead. I know I do not want to go to space, but working on stuff that goes to space is kind of a cool thought. I like learning about space, too. It’s really cool…”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you would really like to go?”

The boy was quiet.

“I don’t want to leave.” He whispered. “This is home. I love living here on the island. You’re here, Lulu’s here, all of my family is here, Lea’s just a ferry ride away. And Dad’s…”

His voice broke some as he said,

“Dad’s here.”

His mother wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight before releasing him and putting her hands on his cheeks, making him look at her.

“Look at me.” She said. “Your father is always with you, no matter where you are. Even if that is off the island. And I think your father would want you to leave Molokai.”

“Leave Molokai?” He repeated, looking slightly horrified, eyes wide.

“Perhaps not forever. This will always be your home. But your father… He would want you to explore the world. Go out, explore the world and discover your place in it. Perhaps that will lead you back here, to this very island. Maybe you’ll stay on the mainland. Maybe you’ll go to different countries. Maybe even a different world. I think your father would encourage you to take this opportunity that fate and your own hard-work have presented you.”

“And, what about you, Mom?” He asked. “What do you think I should do?”

“I think you should do whatever you feel is right. I also think that forcing you to make such a huge decision at such a young age is unfair, but I have faith in your maturity to know that you’ll make a good decision. And I will support you no matter what you choose.”

The boy smiled.

“Thanks, Mom.” He said. She smiled and leaned her face towards his, their noses and foreheads touching, their smiles matching and radiant.

“Alright.” She said, getting to her feet, dusting sand off her skirt. “Come on. Let’s go get some dinner. Your sisters should have it ready by now.”

*

The boy bit his lip as he tried to navigate the crowded halls, doing his best to avoid the quick glances that were sent his way as the other students moved around. He glanced down occasionally at the packet in his hand that had his room number.

The packet had arrived a month previously, with all of the rules and regulations of the Garrison, his schedule, release forms to fill out, required items, a list of approved possessions to keep in the dorms and an even longer list of disapproved items.

And a single one-way plane-ticket.

His mother had said that she would buy her own ticket to come with him. He insisted that she didn’t need to do that; he could fly to the mainland on his own. The Garrison even said that they’d pick him up at the airport and drive him to the school.

He’d miss his mom and sisters. But he was glad that he left them at the airport, because it gave him the plane-time to compose himself, passing off his watery eyes as part of having motion sickness to the concerned flight attendant. He knew if his mom had come with him, he’d change his mind and turn around and go home. And she would let him do that.

But he knew one day he would regret it. So he had to press on.

 _Confidence and courage._ He told himself, focusing on the fabric that brushed against the back of his neck, taking a deep breath as he stood in front of the door to his new room. _I need to have confidence and courage._

He swiped the key card he had been given only a half-hour before at the start of a tour of the facility with the other kids who arrived with his group.

The door slid open and the boy stuck his head in to see a tall, tan boy standing on one of the beds, a roll of tape beside his socked foot as he hung up a poster of a Asian teenage boy in a Garrison uniform on the wall.

The other boy turned to look over his shoulder and he grinned before jumping off the bed.

“Hey, you must be my roommate!” He said excitedly as he bounced over. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Lance. I’m Cuban, but I’ve spent most of my life in Florida. First year fighter pilot. Well, okay, right now I’m in cargo class, but I was _this close_ to making the fighter qualifications. No worries, though, I’ll definitely be put in fighter class next year. Anyways, hope you don’t mind I already claimed one side of the room. I mean, if you have your heart set on this side of the room, I don’t mind switching. But I got here early this morning and they told me your flight wouldn’t come in until after lunch and I couldn’t wait that long to get settled in.”

“Uh, no, no, you’re good, man.” The boy said, a little taken aback by Lance’s excitement, but shook his hand anyways. “I’m not picky.”

“Okay, awesome.” Lance said, nodding. Then he blinked, realizing something. “Oh, wow, sorry, I’m totally being rude. I told you my name, but I haven’t given you a chance to introduce yourself.”

“Oh, um. I’m Pika Kekoa,” The boy said, shifting slightly and finally setting down his duffel on the floor beside him. Somehow it had gotten heavier since he had picked it up from the airport’s baggage claim. “I’m from the Hawaiian island of Molokai and I’m first year engineering student.”

“Pika.” Lance repeated, a bit slowly, wrapping his tongue around the name as he nodded, making sure he got the pronunciation correct. “It’s great to meet you. I cannot tell you just how super stoked I am to be here! I mean, the Garrison’s been my dream for like, ever, but now I’m here and—”

Pika let Lance ramble on about how excited he was to fly, and about some great pilot-slash-student of the Garrison named Hiro. Or was it Suro? He wasn’t quite sure, he wasn’t exactly paying too much attention.

Instead, he made his way to his new bunk and sat down on the mattress, putting his head in his hands.

His burst of confidence and courage was only temporary, apparently, as a new wave of insecurities and worries crashed down upon him. The closer the Garrison got to being a reality, the more sleepless nights he had had, the more he lied to his family that he was just excited. But now that he was here, everything crashed down at once, the worries strong enough to leave the dark and enter the daylight. Or, more accurately, the bright fluorescent lighting.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?”

Pika glanced up at Lance, who was frowning down at him with concern.

“Are you tired?” Lance asked. “You’ve been traveling, then they gave you that tour, you’re probably exhausted. Or does your head hurt? Do you feel sick? Cabin pressure does that to my mom and some of my siblings. Do you want me to go get you something?”

“No, I’m okay.” Pika lied, even as his stomach twisted into more anxious knots and his head was starting to ache. “Well, okay, no, no I’m not. It’s just… I’m not… I’m excited to learn here, but I just… I feel so out of my league and classes haven’t even begun. And… I had a hard enough time dealing with the kids back home, and I knew what to expect from them. But here? I don’t know anything, and I know I’m different. I haven’t seen anyone else who looks anything like me since I got here, and my name… My name’s really different.”

“A lot of people here have ‘different’ names.” Lance said reassuringly, taking a seat on the bed beside him. “It’s an international school.”

“What if they mispronounce it?”

“Then you correct them until they get it right.”

“What if they tease me about my name?”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know, but knowing my luck it’ll probably happen!”

“Okay, chill a little.” Lance said. Suddenly, his entire face brightened. “I know! Use a nickname!”

Pika’s brow furrowed.

“A nickname?” He repeated.

“Yeah!” Lance said, nodding excitedly, a huge grin on his face. “Then, you don’t have to use your real name. You can use a different one picked especially so that it is pronounceable and all that jazz. Lots of people go by just their nicknames, even here at the Garrison.”

Lance hopped up and ran across to his bunk, dramatically pointing to his poster.

“Exhibit A!” He proclaimed. “Takashi Shirogane, youngest person to enter the Garrison’s piloting program, and he’s totally cool and one of the best pilots ever! But! No one here or on the news ever calls him ‘Takashi’ or ‘Shirogane’. He’s just ‘Shiro’, a nickname.”

“If we’re getting technical, it’s just a shortened version of his family name.” Pika pointed out.

“Well, we’re not getting technical. We can get technical later. Now is not the time for technical.” Lance declared.

Pika wondered if this strange boy ever made sense.

“Alright, so I use a nickname.” Pika conceded. “But, what should it be?”

“Hmmm.” Lance said in thought, scratching his chin. “Uh, you’re an engineer, so Gizmo?”

“Isn’t that the name of that Gremlin?”

He could just hear the “don’t feed him after midnight” jokes now.

“Okay, not Gizmo. Uh, Chief? My younger cousins call their oldest brother ‘chief’, and it kind of stuck.”

“Lance, in the five minutes you’ve know me, I’ve already had one mental breakdown. I don’t think I should have a nickname that indicates I should be in a position of authority.”

“I’ve known you long enough to know you’re too hard on yourself.” Lance said, folding his arms over his chest. “And in those five minutes, I’ve also learned a few things about you.”

“Like what?” Pika asked, frowning.

“Like, you’re obviously really smart if you got into the engineering program. And you seem really nice. And you’re kind of sensitive, but that’s not a bad thing. Girls love that stuff. Oh, so you’ve probably definitely got a girlfriend, too.”

Pika felt his cheeks heat as he said,

“Uh, no. No, I don’t.”

Lance drew back as if he had been shocked.

“What!” He said. “No way, I don’t believe it. You’re a total package, any girl would be stupid to pass you up. I mean, you’ve got brains, you look like you’ve got some brawn too, you’re sensitive so that probably means you’ve got a good heart. And you’re a total hunk, too, so—”

“Nope, no, you’ve got it all—” Pika started to argue but Lance’s grin returned.

“Hey, that’s it!” He exclaimed. “Hunk!”

“Hunk?” Pika repeated, confused.

“For your nickname! You should choose Hunk!” Lance said.

“Hunk.” Pika repeated again, contemplating.

Then, after a moment of thought, he nodded.

“I like it.” He said. “Hunk it is.”

Lance grinned.

“Alright then, Hunk.” Lance said. “We’ve got an hour till dinner. I bet we can get all your stuff unpacked in that time.”

Nodding, Pika—no, Hunk—rose from the bed, grabbing his duffel and starting to unpack it.

“It’s almost dinner time.” Lance said after a while, grabbing the uniform that hung in a dry-cleaners bag in the small closet area. “I’m going to change real quick.”

“Okay. I’m almost done.” Hunk said as he pulled out the last of his books to arrange on the shelf. Lance nodded and ducked into the bathroom. Once Hunk heard the door close, he opened one of the books and pulled out a picture.

He smiled at the photo as he taped it to the wall; it was a copy of one of the very few they had of the entire family. It had been taken shortly after Luana’s birth, and in the picture was a blanket wrapped bundle in his mother’s arms. Kalea stood on a box behind her parents’ chairs, her smile big and radiant. And there he was, sitting in the lap of his father, both of them grinning.

Hunk smiled at his father in the picture.

He hoped his father would be proud of him. That he would do things that would make his father proud of him. And the Garrison, he now knew for absolute certain, was the place to begin.

Maybe he didn’t have as much of his father’s confidence as he needed.

But, perhaps, between his father’s headband and his new friend, he would someday have the confidence to something phenomenal. Something extraordinary.

Something legendary.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I unintentionally finished this story with 13 pages on a Word document. Very proud of myself for that.
> 
> My personal headcanon is that Hunk's real name is Pika, which is the Hawaiian form of Peter, which means 'rock'. Very fitting for the Guardian Spirit of Land.


End file.
